


Where Do Ya Draw the Line?

by thrillbroswaggins



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: 80's Music, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Musical References, Punk Music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrillbroswaggins/pseuds/thrillbroswaggins
Summary: One would consider redecorating with somewhat pointy objects while (mildly) drunk to be quite the safety hazard, but there's nothing in hell that could be done to stop Vyvyan once he set his mind to something.
Relationships: Vyvyan Basterd/Rick (Young Ones)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	Where Do Ya Draw the Line?

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a fic for this fandom before so please be patient with me.  
> Written at pproximately 4-5 am. No sleep or proof-reading we die like men.
> 
> Also this isn't as exciting as the summary makes it out to be, sorry!
> 
> Will be updated as I go.
> 
> Title based off a song by Dead Kennedys.

Angry lyrics rife with punk rhetoric filled the share-house, with loud pangs of metal against wood ringing out alongside them. Nails and pins were hammered into the drywall, little bits of plaster crumbling away as they were pushed in with such force. Boots stumbled across wooden panelled floor, falling in place clumsily around old records, stepping over copious amounts nails and pins and staples and of course a few bottles of whiskey for good measure.

One would consider redecorating with pointy objects while (mildly) drunk to be quite the safety hazard, but there's nothing in hell that could be done to stop Vyvyan once he set his mind to something. And trying to stop a (again, mildly) drunk Vyvyan? Yeah that's a death sentence.

He lifted the needle off the playing record, switching from Group Sex by Circle Jerks to a personal favourite of his, Dead Kennedys. An upcoming punk band from America, they'd become a fast favourite after hearing California Uber Alles. He was lucky to get his hands on one of their records, well, to be fair it was 3 years after it was released, but that's besides the point.

He gazed over to his bed, cigarette held to his lips, as he stood and stared at old records taken from their sleeves, and then to his masterpiece upon the wall. He managed to take most of the covers from his vinyls and pinned them onto the wall, now he had the company of many punk and metal legends to watch him sleep. From Subhumans to T.S.O.L, from Misfits to Minor Threat, he felt proud of himself, discarding all the naked records into a box on the floor.

He turned the dial up higher on the record player as Let's Lynch the Landlord came on, 'Heh, we should do that!' he thought to himself, snickering to himself, throwing his head back and forth to the rhythm, boot tapping out the drum beat. He knew exactly who he was pissing off currently, and did he care? Absolutely bloody not. He could probably count exactly how many seconds it would take for that girl to storm over whinging and gurning with that shrill voice of his, complaining that his beauty sleep was being interrupted.

"5...4...3...2...-"

And there you have it, before he could finish there was a knock at the door, then an aggrieved yet somewhat tired voice that piped up.

"Vyvyan I appreciate the musings of anarchic punks that you're listening to but for Cliff's sake could you do this at a time that ISN'T 12 am? Just what have you been doing in there?!"

A disgruntled sigh left Vyvyan at the moment as he set his cigarette in the ashtray to the side of his bed. Picking up his hammer he set himself to answering the door.

"Why don't you fuck off, poof?" He raised an eyebrow, making sure the hammer could be seen through the crack in the doorway.

"Wow what lovely language young man, I suppose you speak to your mum like that too, eh?" That smug fuckin smile made an appearance, god how he loathed it.

"Uh, yeah? Of course you girl, not like I had posh prissy parents that taught me to kiss the arse of everyone I met!" A harsh snort followed his words.

Rick took time to try and push his way into the door, not really achieving much, as Vyvyan slumped back first into it.

"Vyvyan can you at least tell me what the heck you're doing there? I could hear banging from my room...-"

"Oh sorry princess, I was doin' your mum, I'll be a bit quieter next time!" Vyvyan couldn't help but laugh at his own joke, almost keeling over onto the floor.

Rick saw this as ample opportunity to burst through the door, taking Vyvyan off guard, storming towards the record player. It was then that he noticed Rick was still dressed, boots and all.

"If you're complainin' about noise what the hell are you still dressed for?" he spoke, eyebrow raised.

"I was studying! But I couldn't ruddy concentrate with all your noise now could I?" He spun around, glaring daggers at Vyvyan.

"I don't believe that one BIT, poof, who here in this house ACTUALLY studies?"

"I know you may not care about whatever pathetic grades you get Vyvyan but I do, I would actually quite like to pass this course you know."

"Ugh stop talking you're fuckin wasting oxygen." Vyvyan made his way back over to his bed, picking up his cigarette and taking a series of puffs as he sat himself down, crossing his arms.

"Wow, what a polite and eloquent way to speak to your fellow housemate! If this continues I could file for verbal abuse you know!" That whiney voice was really starting to get annoying.

"Ugh sod off, or at least sit down if you're gonna be here all night, standing around and taking up so much space is annoying y'know"

Rick opened his mouth as if to say something, but then stopped himself, not quite sure what to say to that. He took the chair from Vyvyan's desk and sat in it, head resting on his hands as he fixed his gaze to the wall.

"Hm, you could've done that at a different time you know..."

"Oh for fuck's sake, you think I don't know that? I was bored you poof."

Rick’s eyes scanned the record sleeves that adorned the wall, he'd reckon there was at least 20 stuck up there, covering the wall from floor to ceiling. He read all the band names to himself, Social Distortion, Bad Religion, Adam and the Ants,mostly names he didn't recognise. Then his eyes fell upon one vinyl sleeve with a familiar band name, 'Sex Pistols'. Rick had vague memories of a young man by the name 'Sid Vicious' on telly one night, waltzing around on stage, hips jutting forwards and backwards to the beat, sweat rolling down his naked torso. 

Whilst he wasn't a fan of the music, he was definitely a fan of whatever it was that Sid had going on. But that face, and that rude snarl he held, it could only remind him of-

"OI!"

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn't feel something prod his shoulder. He turned to the punk next to him, who had his hand outstretched.

"Cig?"

Rick said nothing, taking the cigarette from between Vyvyan's fingers, placing it to his lips.

"You'll need a light for that, ass hat." Rick rolled his eyes at that, putting out his hand in a gesture for a lighter, not even honouring Vyvyan with a look. Out of nowhere he felt a hand on the nape of his neck, pushing his head closer to Vyvyan's. Surely enough, Vyvyan was pushing their cigarettes together, the smouldering ashes being enough to set Rick's alight (because yeah, that's a totally natural impulse when someone gestures for a ruddy lighter!). Breathing in he was pleased (pfft, as if) with the scent of cheap alcohol  
  


He blinked, not moving an inch as Vyvyan pulled away, half in fear of prompting Vyvyan to begin a violent rampage, half in sheer confusion, still baffled as to Vyvyan's strange ways of lighting cigarettes.

"Was there a need? To do it like that, I mean." He took the cigarette in his fingers, speaking between puffs, he had an odd, quizzical look to his face that Vyvyan couldn't help but snicker at.

"Well of course, I knew it'd annoy you!" He smiled, putting out his cigarette in his ashtray. He reached a hand under his bed, til he felt something cold and glassy, ah yes, a beautiful bottle of vodka. Pulling it out, he unscrewed the lid and immediately brought the bottle to his lips, taking as big of a drink as he could, pausing, and then taking an even bigger drink. He let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling the burn of alcohol low in his stomach.

"Oi, you want a sip?" He shook the bottle in Rick's general direction. Another confused look came across Rick's face, but soon enough he found himself setting his cigarette down, taking the bottle from Vyvyan.

"Fine, but I'm cleaning this before my mouth goes anywhere near it."

Another eyeroll from Vyvyan as Rick used a sleeve to clear the rim of the bottle. His face scrunched up as he smelled the pungent scent of vodka, but brought it to his lips anyway, taking as big of a sip as he dared to. Soon enough Rick found himself coughing and spluttering like a cat with a hairball, he'd expected an unpleasant taste but what he did NOT anticipate was chemical warfare on each of his senses at once.

Vyvyan laughed, rough and hard, watching as Rick's face went red from exasperation, it was quite the show!

"Dear Cliff how the ruddy hell do you drink this tat?!"

Vyvyan had to steady himself, still laughing at tje display occuring in front of him. He took a breath, inhale, exhale, finally calming down.

"Pretty simple Rick, I've been drinking since I was 9!" A smug smile painted his face at that moment, gaining nothing but an eyeroll from Rick, who was now tentatively raising the bottle for another sip.

This time he managed to only cough once, as he got a swift mouthful of the vodka. He wasn't the type to drink a lot, and he was already starting to feel the slightest bit lightheaded, the sweet burn of alcohol beginning to burn in his stomach. He took another drink, daring to take more this time, swallowing hard.

"For fuck's sake don't take it all!" Vyvyan slurred, laughing lightly, there was something funny to him about all this. He slapped a hand to the side of Rick's head, fingers landing in spiked hair. Rick reached out an arm and slapped it against Vyvyan's head, his fingers felt sticky as he touched the gel in Vyvyan's hair. They laughed in sync, both as bloody wasted as each other, just, slapping each other without much force.

One thing neither of them expected, is how soft they both were, except for the odd spot on the face of course, but that's only natural for growing young men! But in truth, they were both equally amused. Vyvyan moved his hand upwards more into Rick's hair, it wasn't the softest but it wasn't as rough as he expected. Next thing he knew he was ruffling Rick's hair. He paused for a second, arms now crossed.

"...you know, you're not too bad company Rick."

Rick turned to face him, hands clasping for grip on the bottle. He raised his eyebrow quizzically, waiting for a rude joke about how Vyvyan wanted to beat him black and blue, but it never came.

"...you're not bad company either, Vyv."

Vyvyan's head perked up at the nickname.

"Poof!"

"How am I the poof? You're the one that said practically the same thing, spazzy! Besides that's incredibly rude of you to use such a derogatory term!" Rick got apprehensive, he hated having his sexuality challenged, or well, not so much challenged as 'made fun of'. 

Vyvyan, unbeknownst to him, already knew the truth to be fair, after walking in on Rick and another bloke in Rick's bedroom, snogging the faces off each other. They'd been giggling, holding each other close, sitting atop the bed with their mouths on each other. Vyvyan had left before they could notice, running to the garden for a bloody cig. 

Vyvyan shook his head, clearing his mind from that memory.

"I suppose ya must really fancy me eh? Sitting here and enjoying my company!" He laughed, sounding a bit uneasy at first.

"...n-no of course not! Isn't it just common hospitality to spend time with your housemate?" Rick sounded nervous, hesitation clear in his voice, trying to laugh off the entire topic.

"Ah but then why did you hesitate? And why aren't you with Mike or Neil then?!" 

"I didn't expect the question you fascist! And I don't LIKE those two, Mike's a stuck up prick who only cares about getting with desperate women, and Neil is a depressive hippy who's only useful for cooking!"

"AHA so you admit you like me!"

"No! Shut up you ruddy fascist! Stop putting words in my mouth!"

Rick stood, throwing his fist in Vyvyan's general direction, stumbling over his own two feet, landing in a pile practically on Vyvyan's lap. He was dizzy, couldn't get his bearings, but he could feel the heat of another person under him. Felt the rumble of raucous laughter moving him up and down. Oh Cliff what has he gotten himself into.

Vyvyan pushed Rick off of him, onto the mattress behind him. Rick found himself staring at the ceiling, watching it swirl around dizzyingly.

"I don't care what you think of me Vyv," he spoke suddenly. Vyvyan turned to face him. "I know you hate me regardless if I'm gay or not, so why do you care?"

Vyvyan took a second to think.

"I mean, I don't hate you, yeah you're a massive fuckin annoyance sometimes but that's it, I just like annoying ya!"

Holiday in Cambodia was reaching its peak as Rick positioned himself upwards, leaning on his elbows.

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"Ugh Rick you blind oblivious bastard..." Vyvyan spoke under his breath before leaning in close. "I blimin' well fancy ya okay?"

Rick's eyes went wide, but before he could even THINK of making some smug comment, he felt the warmth of a foreign mouth on his, lips delicate and flush against his own. His eyes closed as he felt a hand make its way into his own, fingers interlocking, twining together. 

Their lips moved together, softly, gently, almost as if they were scared of hurting each other, which is ironic in of itself. Vyvyan's other hand snaked its way to behind Rick's head, coming to rest at the nape of his neck, thumb stroking along the shaved hairs there. Rick's own free hand held onto the side of the punk's jaw, cradling it in his grip.

They pulled away slightly for air, feeling each others hot breaths upon their lips. Rick was the first to make a move this time, kissing Vyvyan with more heat, more need, dear Cliff he didn't realise how much he NEEDED this. Vyvyan was soon kissing back, hard, teeth grazing across Rick's bottom lip, before his tongue licked across it. Rick seemed to welcome it instantly, opening his mouth with a low groan, greeting him with his own tongue. 

The feeling of saliva that wasn't his own, mixed with the heat of a foreign mouth was purely exhilarating, he couldn't help but let himself melt in Vyvyans arms, hands stroking soft circles into his jaw. 

When they pulled away, they looked at each other, eyes blown wide, pupils dilated.

  
  



End file.
